“But there is a still more cogent and direct proof, should such be required. Each of these consenting parties to the contract of ‘marriage by consent,’ on coming separately to this hotel last night gave to the servant of the house who admitted them the name by which I hold they are now bound in honourable wedlock!” He spoke the last sentences gravely and impressively after the manner of an advocate pressing home on a jury the conclusion of an elaborate train of reasoning. Whilst speaking he had kept his eyes fixed on Colonel Ogilvie, who unconsciously took it that an exhortation on patience and toleration was being addressed to him. The effect was increased by the action of Joy, who seeing him all alone and inferring his spiritual loneliness, left Judith but still holding Athlyne’s arm drew the latter towards him. Then she took her father’s arm and stood between the two men whom she loved. Judy quietly took Athlyne’s other arm, and so all stood in line holding each other as they faced the Sheriff. No one said a word; all were afraid to break the silence. “We now come to further proofs if such be required. The woman, who arrived first, gave the name of Lady Athlyne.” Here Joy got fearfully red; she was conscious of her father’s eyes on her, even before she heard him say: “That foolish joke again! Did not I forbid you to use it daughter?” She felt it would be unwise to answer, to speak at all just at present. In desperation she raised her eyes to the face of her lover--and was struck with a sort of horrified amazement. For an instant it had occurred to him that Joy must have known his identity--for some time past at all events. The thought was, however, but momentary. Her eyes fell again quickly, and she stood in abashed silence. There was nothing to do now but to wait. The calm voice of the Sheriff went on, like the voice of Doom: “The man arrived later. He himself had wired in his own name for rooms; but by the time he had arrived the possibility of his coming had, owing to the fog, been given up. The other traveller had been given the bedroom, and he slept on the sofa in the sitting-room--this room.” As he spoke he went over to the door of communication between the rooms and examined the door. There were no fastenings except the ordinary latch; neither lock nor bolt. He did not say a word, but walked back to his place. Judy could not contain her curiosity any longer; she blurted out: “What name did he give?” The Sheriff looked at her admiringly as he answered: “The name he gave, dear lady, was ‘Athlyne’!” “Is that your name?” she queried--this time to Athlyne. “It is!” He pulled himself up to his full height and stood on his dignity as he said it. His name should not be dishonoured if he could help it.